


Company in Misery

by Apatheia_Jane



Category: Oz - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-13
Updated: 2009-11-13
Packaged: 2017-10-02 15:00:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apatheia_Jane/pseuds/Apatheia_Jane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the lyric wheel challenge. <br/>Song was Too Much Love Will Kill You, Words and music by Brian May, Frank Musker, Elizabeth Lamers</p>
            </blockquote>





	Company in Misery

`I still can't believe she left me for a Bobby.' Sean resisted the urge to roll his eyes. It wasn't the first time tonight that Tim had uttered that exact same sentence, with exactly the same tone of wounded betrayal.

`I had no idea you were this pathetic when left alone.' He'd suspected, of course, but it had been a good long while since Tim had let him get close enough to make that kind of observation. Now, he figured, if the best friend couldn't say that kind of thing, three sheets to the wind with no one else around, then maybe Tim needed to see a less affordable shrink.

`I can't help feeling lonely when I'm alone.' Sweet Mary, he sounded so damn petulant these days. Sean spared a thought for the irony that was spending long hours with some of the worst men in the state, and it was his best friend in charge of them who he wanted to smack around.

`Tim, this may not be the best time, but you two weren't exactly the happiest couple on the block.' The glare directed slightly to the left of him concurred that no, not exactly the best time. Not that it was easy talking to Tim when he was sober, either. At least he wasn't being avoided anymore. Sometimes you have to suffer through the silence, then the angry outbursts, then the avoidance, before you could get anywhere near to a conversation with him.

`I'm just saying, you pushed her away so many times. You got her transferred out of Em City exactly because you didn't want her near you. Why is it so awful that she's not near you a little further away?'

Tim straightened, and gestured with the glass formerly firmly pressed to his forehead.

`Married, Sean. She's not further away, married. Over there in the land of bad weather and bad food and giant fuzzy black hats.'

Sean watched the condensation from the glass run the side of Tim's nose. Tim didn't seem to notice it, and threw back the last of his whiskey before glancing around with determined concentration, no doubt trying to locate the bottle. Sean watched him for a second, glanced back at the bottle on the table in front of them, and sighed.

It was going to be a long night.

*****

Half an hour later, and Sean was slightly grateful that the conversation had progressed past Diane and onto self-recrimination. Tim was throwing out the apologies buried in self-loathing, which wasn't that much more fun to listen to me than the belatedly petulant jilted boyfriend had been. He poured a glass for himself and drained it, then refilled it and reached for Tim's.

`I really am sorry. I shouldn't have even have thought it. I don't deserve that sort of loyalty from you, especially then. I shouldn't have thought that anyone would care about me that much.'

Sean couldn't quite stop himself from rolling his eyes, but since Tim was staring glumly at the table, it didn't seem to matter. Better head this off at the pass, thought Sean.

`Yunno Tim, I did think about following you out the front door, a lot. I just didn't think it mattered to you. If I thought it would help, or knew that you wanted me too, I would have, you know. And then I picked a fight with Querne and left Em City anyway.'

Sometimes, all you can do is match melodrama with more melodrama.

`I guess I'm not sorry I was such an asshole then. Now that I'm… yunno…'

`Drunk?'

`No! I mean, I am, but I meant that now that I'm back, I'm glad you didn't quit. It's like you were waiting for me to come home, or something.'

Sean pictured standing by the console, and Tim walking into Em City, putting his hat on a rather out-of-place hatstand, and cheerfully spouting `Honey, I'm home!' He snorted, and Tim looked slightly hurt.

`Oz isn't home, Tim. Not for us.'

`Yeah, but… how could it be so easy for her to just leave?'

`Were you this pathetic during every other five minute stretch you haven't had any women lined up waiting to jump into your pants?' Sean surprised himself with how harsh that sounded. He was just the best friend, and he had no interest in Diane or Claire or Gloria, so there was no reason for the bitterness he could feel sneaking in. He could see Tim was a bit surprised by the vehemence as well, and he shrugged apologetically.

`It's not like that, you know,' Tim said uncertainly.

`Well, what is it about?'

`I don't know, okay?' The frustration on his face was palpable. `My therapist says that I'm afraid to be alone, because I get caught up inside my head.'

`Well, I'm here now, and you're still pathetic.' Another apologetic shrug answering Tim's glare, and for now, coupled with another shot of whiskey slid across the table, it seemed to be enough. Tim deflated enough to sling it back, at least, and considered the implicit question. Glass down, and hands over his face, the muffled answer emerged.

`You don't count. You don't love me.'

Sean quickly reconsidered the wisdom of trying to probe around in Tim's psyche. Maybe it should be left to the trained professionals who were a little less… invested. But in for a penny, and what are friends for, and at some point, turning back stopped being an option.

`And Howell did?' Tim let his hands part and his face slid forward to hit the table. It was the most graceful drunken collapse that Sean could remember seeing, but that didn't really seem to be the point.

`No, but she did ask me out,' Tim offered with what sounded like a wry smile. About time his sense of humour decided it wasn't DOA, Sean thought, which was obviously something that should be encouraged. If man can laugh, he can laugh off a lot.

`I let you buy me dinner, didn't I?' Sean grinned.

`Yeah, you did.' Tim looked up at Sean wonderingly. Oh crap, Sean thought. He's going to get sentimental again.

`For the record, it's only because if Howell gets jealous and attacks all of your dates, I know I can take her,' Sean quickly pointed out.

`So we're trying to make her attack you now? For fun? You've got balls, is all I can say,' Tim laughed.

`Well, we could do it just to get her fired if you prefer.' Sean poured another glass for both of them, and hesitated before contemplating out loud that it couldn't hurt the sexual harassment thing if people knew that her jealousy could motivate her to revenge and violence. Sean was very conscious that he was treading on uncertain territory, as Tim was undoubtedly still very touchy about the subject. He braced himself for Tim's response, but he was definitely not expecting what did come out of Tim's mouth.

`Yeah, but it couldn't help the case with Wangler if I were to start fondling men in the locker room,' Tim said, apparently in all seriousness. Sean choked on his whiskey and stared at the distinctly off-putting expression currently making an appearance on his best friend's face. Somewhere between contemplative and wistful, which, considering the context, was definitely unexpected.

`I wasn't quite suggesting fondling in the locker room, you know,' he said, which wasn't something he'd ever thought he might have to clarify to Tim.

`Neither was I. In fact, I'm fairly certain I was saying it was a bad idea. I'm not sure Mineo would appreciate the view any more than Howell would.'

Sean had no idea whether Tim was taking the piss or flirting with him or both, or if it was the whiskey making him feel so flushed and claustrophobic, but he needed air. Air that was further away from Tim's face, too close and too inscrutable, than he currently was.

`I really am sorry,' Tim said earnestly, gazing into his eyes. Oh, crap, thought Sean. Danger, Will Robinson. Tim brought up a hand to caress the side of his face, and murmured, `Can you ever forgive me?'

Sean jerked backwards, toppling his chair over. He watched Tim blink in surprise, and look left and right before trying for down. Their gazes locked for a moment, before Sean broke it and disentangled himself from the chair. He pulled the chair upright, but remained standing.

`I think I've had just about enough to drink tonight, Tim.'

`Sure, get me a cup of coffee and I'll drive you home.' Tim struggled upright, and managed to stand without swaying, barely, by clutching onto the chair back. Sean snorted.

`If you don't mind, I'll just take your couch. Come on, let's get you to bed.' Tim loosened his grip on the chair and slid sideways along the table a bit.

`That might be a better idea,' Tim said as Sean caught him, and tucked his arm around his waist, and let Tim's arm slide around his shoulder. They made it to the bedroom with only a minor incident with the door frame, and Sean lowered Tim gently to his bed. Unfortunately, Tim didn't quite let go, and Sean overbalanced and toppled onto the bed as well. He thought he'd better get up and turn that ceiling fan off, but then realised it was just the cracks in the ceiling moving a little faster than he'd like. Tim started giggling, and wiggled his legs out from under Sean's. Up on one elbow, and peering down into Sean's face with a smile on his face that didn't quite match the expression in his eyes.

`Still want that couch?'

Yes, Sean wanted to say. Yes, I damn well do want that couch. I'm just not sure if I can make it that far. Instead, he found himself saying, `Well, you did buy me dinner.'

`And now I've got you in my bed,' Tim smirked.

For a split second, Sean knew exactly why Gloria wouldn't testify on Tim's behalf. For a split second, he wondered if he really knew his best friend, and really knew what he was capable of. In that moment, he was sure that Tim had exaggerated how drunk he was just to get him here, on the verge of passing out on his back in Tim's bed. He lurched upwards and managed the three steps to the bathroom before his knees collapsed onto the tiles. He swung the door shut behind him and locked it, before pulling himself to the toilet bowl. He hung his head over the rim, and waited for his roiling stomach to heave just that little bit more.

`Sean?' the disembodied voice of his best friend seemed to waver through the door before assaulting him from all sides. Calm down, Sean thought. You're paranoid. Spending day after day with sexual predators, you're paranoid. This is Tim, frustrated and petulant and with all the best intentions that never seem to work. This is your best friend, the one you missed.

`It's ok, Tim,' he managed, `Just give me a minute.' He was heaving, but each time his gag reflex won out and kept it down. Head lolling to one side and feeling like he was rolling it in circles. Sean desperately wished that he was sober, right now, so he could stride out of this damned bathroom, and tuck Tim in, and then go home, where everything was nice and simple. Right now, he was confused and disorientated and uneasy, and he couldn't deal with any of that with his head in this whirling toilet bowl. And yet, somehow Sean felt that even without the commiseration sympathy drinks turning against him, he'd still be out of his depth. If he could just wait it out, at least, then maybe the answers would come. Breathing in, and out, and his stomach unclenched a little.

`Sean?' Tim tried again. `You've been in there a while. Can you open the door?'

`I'm ok,' Sean protested.

`Good. Can you open the door? I need to piss.'

Sean laughed, despite his protesting body. He probably would feel better in the morning if he could purge his stomach, but it didn't seem he was that drunk. Overcoming the lingering feelings of wanting to hide himself away from Tim until everything was right again, he leant back and unlocked the door. Tim opened it, and Sean slumped backwards onto the floor, immediately struggling to get back on his feet. Tim helped him to the bed, with its covers already stripped back, then shut the bathroom door behind him. Sean lay unmoving on the bed, feeling warmer than the cold tiles had allowed. When Tim rejoined him, Sean passively allowed the removal of his shoes and belt, and listened to Tim strip down to boxers. Steps over to the bedroom door, and darkness engulfed the room. Tim lay down beside him, and pulled the covers up over them both. Sean automatically tensed as Tim moved towards him and placed a cold and slightly clammy hand on his stomach.

`Sleep tight, Sean.'

The hand withdrew, but the body warmth at his side remained. Sean smiled, and closed his eyes. As he slipped quietly into slumber he thought, this isn't so bad at all.


End file.
